Final Project Pitch

Eco Art

I am interested in found object art, specifically recycled art. The artists send the message of being environmentally friendly, whether it was their intention or not. With the growing global awareness of our deteriorating planet, and the trend of going “green”, it makes sense that people are turning useless waste into useful beauty. My thesis is that the artists who reinvent ordinary objects are at the forefront of today’s environmental movement. They can reach more people through visual expression than a scientific article full of data.

I am the person to write this because I am infatuated with taking objects and seeing them in a different light. It takes imagination, innovation and a beginner’s mind. It is like seeing through the eyes of a child, trying to re-invent something you have already come to know a certain way. I am also fascinated with the environmental impact that artists have in general.
Sources I plan on using include:

Interviews
Jean Shin, found object artist: http://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/QA-Jean-Shin.html
Saxton Freymann, food artist: http://www.teachingbooks.net/content/Freymann_trans.pdf

Websites
http://www.re-store.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=72&Itemid=115
http://www.recyclart.org/
http://www.webdesignerdepot.com/2009/12/non-trashy-recycled-and-trash-art/

My larger statement about today’s culture is that recycled art is a beneficial trend because it makes a point about the harm of consumerism and waste while making something aesthetically pleasing at the same time.

Revised Kael Review

Audience: Young readers of an alternative independent arts magazine

Pauline Kael: All Critic, No Heart

There is no doubt that Pauline Kael, famed film critic of the fifties and sixties, loved movies. In fact, she loved them so much that, according to protégé Francis Davis in “Afterglow,” she “[asked] more of them than they could routinely deliver.” In that manner, her love for movies comes across as affectionate abuse, like squeezing a beloved puppy until it cannot breathe. Pauline Kael embodied a series of contradictions: love folded in hate; crass taste disguised as a personable tone; and a critical eye covering up a lack of sympathy.

In “Afterglow: A Last Conversation with Pauline Kael,” Kael says to Francis Davis, “I loved lowbrow taste, and that was hard to get across.” However, the vocabulary and vulgarity of her film reviews convey her lowbrow taste more than adequately. In Renata Adler’s “House Critic” Adler mercilessly points out many of Kael’s “ad personam physical images” such as “a new brand of pop manure” and “flatulent seriousness.” Alder also calls attention to Kael’s affinity for four basic film components typically associated with adolescent males: “frissons of horror,” “physical violence,” “sex scenes,” and “fantasies of invasion.” In “Afterglow” Kael stated that she wrote her reviews in “the language we really spoke.” However, Kael’s language compares to that of a cocky teenage boy with an extensive knowledge of film.

Kael’s appetite for the harshness in life appears in her praise of “My Left Foot” and “Klute.” For both films she makes note of the “toughness” of the characters and the directors’ straightforward take on the respective stories of a cerebral palsy victim and a call girl. It is understandable wanting a film to give its subject justice unburdened by sentimentality; however, Kael’s lack of sensitivity extends to almost anti-social proportions. In her review of “Funny Girl” Kael says that movies stars are “more intense and dazzling than people we ordinarily encounter in life, and far more charming than the extraordinary people we encounter” because “we don’t have to undergo the frenzy or the risks of being involved with them.” Is she being witty or inadvertently revealing herself? It’s hard to connect to a review, much less a reviewer, sporting statements of mild misanthropy.

Kael’s desire for un-involvement with people extended to un-involvement with movies. She never saw a film more than once—she admitted in “Afterglow” that she wanted to see Robert Altman’s Nashville another time, but would not allow herself to do so. Kael had the potential to be a film lover, but was too disciplined in her profession, and instead became a mere film expert.

In her review of “Hiroshima Mon Amour” Kael claims that actress Emmanuelle Riva “was exposing one of the worst faults of intelligent modern women: she was talking all her emotions out.” In turn, the opposite was true of Kael—her biggest fault was not feeling enough.

An Interesting Tidbit

I really enjoyed the article "A Twist on Getting Dressed: Try Doing it While Dangling" and the corresponding photos in the arts section of the Times on Monday. It is about a unique take on dance, using all possible space, including walls and the ceiling (sort of--it takes place in the imagination)

anyways, I recomend checking it out. you don't have to be a dance enthusiast to appreciate this work of movement.

link: (still don't know how to make it easier! so copy and paste it is) http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/15/arts/dance/15brown.html?scp=1&sq=A%20Twist%20on%20Getting%20Dressed&st=cse

Pauline Kael: All Critic, No Heart

Audience: Current Readers of The New Yorker

Pauline Kael: All Critic, No Heart

There is no doubt that Pauline Kael, famed film critic of the fifties and sixties, loved movies. In fact, she loved them so much that, according to protégé Francis Davis in “Afterglow,” she “[asked] more of them than they could routinely deliver.” In that manner, her love for movies comes across more as affectionate abuse, like squeezing a beloved puppy until it cannot breathe. Love folded in hate; crass taste disguised as a personable tone; a critical eye covering up a lack of sympathy– Pauline Kael was a series of contradictions.

In “Afterglow,” Francis Davis’s interview with Pauline Kael, Kael says, “I loved lowbrow taste, and that was hard to get across.” However, in her reviews her vocabulary and taste in vulgarity convey her lowbrow taste more than adequately. In Renata Alder’s “House Critic” she mercilessly points out many of Kael’s “ad personam physical images” such as “a new brand of pop manure” and “flatulent seriousness.” Alder also calls attention to Kael’s affinity for four basic film components typically associated with adolescent males: “frissons of horror,” “physical violence,” “sex scenes,” and “fantasies of invasion.” Kael’s taste isn’t lowbrow; it’s nothing more than that of a cocky teenage boy with an extensive knowledge of film.

Kael’s appetite for the harshness in life is apparent in her praise of “My Left Foot” and “Klute.” For both films she makes note of the “toughness” of the characters and the directors’ straightforward take on the respective stories of a cerebral palsy victim and a call girl. It is understandable to want a film to give its subject justice unburdened by sentimentality; however Kael’s lack of sensitivity extends to almost anti-social proportions.

In her review of “Funny Girl” Kael says that movies stars are “more intense and dazzling than people we ordinarily encounter in life, and far more charming than the extraordinary people we encounter” because “we don’t have to undergo the frenzy or the risks of being involved with them.” Is she being witty or inadvertently revealing herself? Like Davis writes in “Afterglow,” it’s well known that Pauline Kael did not have her daughter with one of her three husbands, but rather as an arrangement with gay poet James Broughton. It seems that Kael went to great lengths to avoid “involvement” with people.

Kael’s un-involvement with people extended to movies. She never saw a film more than once, or rather, would not allow herself to do so—she admitted in “Afterglow” that she wanted to see Robert Altman’s Nashville another time. Kael had the potential to be a film lover, but was too disciplined in her profession, and instead became a mere film expert.

In her review of “Hiroshima Mon Amour” Kael claims that actress Emmanuelle Riva “was exposing one of the worst faults of intelligent modern women: she was talking all her emotions out.” In turn, it seems that the opposite was true of Kael—her biggest fault was not feeling enough.

Interesting combo of food and art

In today's dining section I was intrigued by this article about a restaurant that commissions artists to illustrate its menu covers. They have 65 covers so far from different artists. I thought it was a creative mixture of art and dining.


Here is the link:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/02/10/dining/10art.html?scp=1&sq=Chanterelle%20Sells%20its%20Art%20a%20la%20carte&st=cse

p.s. how does everyone do that nifty thing where you can just click on text and it takes you to the website?

Professors Present Prose, Poems, and Personality: Review of English Department Reading

Audience: Kalamazoo College Community

Professors Present Prose, Poems, and Personality

Note: The writer of this article is an English Major and has been, will be, or currently is a student of the professors that were a part of the following reviewed event. Thus, a bias must be taken into account with regard to the writer’s pre-existing partiality to the affability of their personalities (and the knowledge that her work is regularly reviewed by them as well.)

Upon entering the newly refurbished Olmsted room in Mandelle Hall last Wednesday evening, students, staff and community members could feel the energy of anticipation for the annual English Department reading. It is a unique event in a college community when professors simultaneously display their talent and become vulnerable in front of their students. By showcasing a wide variety of topics, styles and genres, the English professors also revealed a bit of their own distinctive personalities.

Andy Mozina, fearless leader of the department, kicked off the event reading an excerpt from his short story “My Nonsexual Affair.” His detailed character descriptions and carefully crafted dialogue allowed the audience to commiserate with the awkward relationship depicted in the story. Mr. Mozina’s masterful character and relationship development through conversation is reminiscent of Jane Austen, whom he currently teaches in his English Sophomore Seminar.

Following Mr. Mozina was Beth Marzoni, resident writer for the fall and winter quarters. She read her poem “Rothcoe’s Drum” with dramatic emphasis in a way that made the audience want to hold their breath. Her sensory descriptions of lemon groves and ancient cities brought the listener along on an artistic and colorful journey.

Next, Marin Heinritz, head of the journalism department, read from her memoir about her mother’s bout with cancer. Her phrase “My mother has always been a runner” set up the story beautifully for tales from her mother’s past and their subsequent telling details of her personality. Ms. Heinritz’s strong reading voice allowed her personal subject matter to shine.

Gail Griffin, organizer of the event, followed on a similar serious note reading from her book about the murder-suicide that took place at the college about ten years ago. Her smooth, powerful voice paired with her personal recollection of interviewing the victim’s family made the audience go quiet in contemplation.

Switching to a more humorous tone, Glenn Deutsch read from his short story “The Monkey Version of My Father.” His comical dialogue, personable manner and spot-on scene description—such as a comparison to an Edward Hopper painting—made it seem like the reading was a private account between Mr. Deutsch and the audience.

Amy Rodgers, visiting Shakespeare professor, also read from a personable narrative, even more personal than most since it was a “process piece”—literally the journey she took to create a play on the son of Robert Frost. Her witty, honest style made her piece easily accessible and relatable to the listeners.

For a turn of pace, Babli Sinha read from her conference paper on media and the south Asian novel. Ms. Sinha clearly displayed intelligence and passion on her subject, along with skillful storytelling ability that surpassed her form’s proclivity towards the pedantic.

Next, writer in residence Di Seuss read her poem “It wasn’t a dream, I knew William Burroughs,” a cheeky response to a poem titled “I dreamed I knew William Burroughs,” and “Birthday Confession” from her collection of poems about dressing in drag. As an experienced performance poet she had perfect pacing, pausing for reactions and slowing her voice to accentuate the edgy subject matter and ripe details of her language.

To finalize the event, Amelia Katanski read her prose in a sweet voice that contrasted nicely with her unexpected graphic descriptions of slaughtered animals, and Bruce Mills read from his memoir “Archeology of Yearning” about his son’s autism. His deep, personal tone topped off the event with an appropriate sense of intimacy, which had been present all throughout the night.